


Rebel Yell

by CarmillaCarmine



Series: Slice of Life ficlets - Dissonance [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dissonance, M/M, Punklock, Rebel Yell, Sherlock singing, Songfic, to John - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22831183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarmillaCarmine/pseuds/CarmillaCarmine
Summary: Sherlock communicates his feelings to John by singing to him.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Slice of Life ficlets - Dissonance [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1470122
Comments: 26
Kudos: 67





	Rebel Yell

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dissonance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18358196) by [CarmillaCarmine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarmillaCarmine/pseuds/CarmillaCarmine). 



> Feel free to listen to: ["Rebel Yell by Billy Idol"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdphvuyaV_I)  
> while reading.  
> This ficlet be read as a stand-alone.  
> However, it happens after ch15 of the punkrock band Johnlock AU ["Dissonance"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18358196/chapters/43466693)  
> which is still a WIP.  
> You don't need to know the fic to read the ficlet :)

John entered their band’s practice area and welcomed the sounds of Sherlock’s guitar. Often, the singer used the drumbeat from his foot switch and put it through the amplifier along with his guitar so he could practice alone or compose without needing anyone to provide the accompaniment of the other instruments. 

John had learned by now that Sherlock could play them all, but was drawn to the guitar as it was the most accommodating of both his energy and his singing. When he had an idea for a new song, he closed himself in the practice area and recorded each instrument separately, then put it together in the mixing program to show his idea to the rest of the band later. It was a simple way of dealing with the issue of everyone being busy with life and work. Most of the time, John partook in the process and could witness the genius at work. 

He’d received a text from Sherlock to meet him in the practice space and, after dropping the groceries at their flat, he’d headed straight there. 

Upon John’s arrival, Sherlock didn’t mute the drums but he changed the beat a bit and then graced John with a sultry smile. John knew that expression well and took a seat on one of the sofas to claim the privilege of being the lucky spectator to an exclusive performance. 

Sherlock usually wore a black button-down with his tight, low-slung black jeans, but he must have been playing in the confined space long enough to have felt the need to rid himself of the top layer. His torso glistened with subtle beads of sweat as he slid his hand up to swoop his hair back into place. John watched the movement as if in slow-motion, as if Sherlock knew what the lean muscle of his torso moving did to John. Of course he knew and he was doing it on purpose. The cheeky bastard had perfected the tease with which he melted John into a puddle of need. 

John recognized the song from the first chords of the guitar and grinned, settling himself comfortably on the sofa, which gave him a perfect view of the makeshift stage in the sound-proofed room. Sherlock held a lot of love for the classics, whether it was classical violin music or classic rock and punk rock. He would have found himself at home on the stage in the 80's with millions of fangirls screaming his name, John was sure of that. The charisma he emanated with such ease was astounding.

_“Last night a little dancer came dancin' to my door_

_Last night a little angel came pumping on the floor”_

Sherlock’s baritone was a lot lower than Billy Idol’s had been when he started the lyrics of the song John recognised as “Rebel Yell.” John felt his heartbeat accelerate at both Sherlock's voice and the way he moved while he played and sang. He never had enough opportunity to admire Sherlock playing, as he usually was standing next to the man onstage. This time, he could allow himself to enjoy the intensely erotic image in front of him. Sherlock switched pronouns in the song and met John’s gaze.

_“He said ‘Come on baby I got a license for love_

_And if it expires pray help from above’_

_Because,”_

Sherlock’s voice raised higher as he poured even more energy into the lyrics than the original version of the song held. John licked his lips and mouthed the chorus along with Sherlock’s lewd voice that was setting fire to John’s body.

_“In the midnight hour he cried - ‘more, more, more’_

_With a rebel yell he cried - ‘more, more, more’_

_In the midnight hour babe - ‘more, more, more’_

_With a rebel yell - ‘more, more, more’_

_More, more, more”_

The hip thrust at the end of each line was directed at John and the ridiculous theatrical display from Sherlock made him grin, but soon sent blood rushing down his body. In response, John parted his thighs and placed his palms on the insides, running them slowly up and down the denim. Sherlock was energetic on stage at all times, but he had never done in public anything resembling this feat of sexual prowess on stage. John was here for “more more more’ indeed…

_“What set you free and brought you to me babe_

_What set you free I need you here by me”_

John felt the essence of the words hit him and he felt the same, understanding the sincerity of all that Sherlock expressed in his voice as he kept singing.

This time, John joined in to sing the ending of each line of the chorus, playing his role in this story.

When Sherlock threw himself into the throes of the solo, John felt jolts of electricity travel through him. In his passion, Sherlock’s hair came out of his back swoop and swung to cover part of his face, completing the enthralling image of a being overtaken by his performance. Amazing, John thought. How was this man even real? 

Then Sherlock turned his arresting gaze to John again and seemed to look through him, all the way to his soul as the song slowed down for the bridge. His low, sensual voice delivered the next lines with astounding sincerity.

_“I walked the world with you, babe_

_A thousand miles with you”_

The time they had spent preparing for concerts and the upcoming tour felt indeed like they’d travelled the world together already. John’s world had changed immensely since he’d met Sherlock, who had turned his life from a hopeless, lonely existence into a one full of hope, fun, and partnership. 

_“I dried your tears of pain, babe_

_A million times for you”_

John touched his chest, showing Sherlock that he understood. There had been many instances at the beginning of their friendship, right after they’d moved in together, when John had woken up from a nightmare and when Sherlock’s presence and the soothing sounds of a violin at odd hours of the night had soothed him back to sleep. When that hadn’t worked, John would join Sherlock in the sitting room for a cuppa and the world had become more bearable. 

_“I'd sell my soul for you babe_

_For money to burn with you_

_I'd give you all, and have none, babe_

_Just to, just to, just to, to have you here by me”_

Sherlock’s low voice ranged high when he yelled the last two lines at the top of his lungs. John registered the shift on a visceral level, his emotions in response to the words and the excruciating peak of the performance making his eyes prickle. They sucked at talking about emotions, but this - this is what they did best. This was how they communicated more than any words could convey in a conversation.

_“Because_

_In the midnight hour he cried - ‘more, more, more’_

_With a rebel yell-”_

Sherlock stopped abruptly and, with loud, ear-piercing feedback, set his guitar aside. He stepped on the extension cord’s switch, turning everything off before he straddled John on the sofa.

“Me too,” were the only words John managed to say before his lips were claimed by the most talented mouth he’d ever had the privilege of kissing. Sherlock’s soft lips delivered a bruising kiss as his hips ground down on John’s lap. John reciprocated with enthusiasm, sliding one hand into Sherlock’s hair and the other to cup his arse. 

“Did you just call me ‘little’?” John asked with amusement when they parted for breath. Sherlock shrugged, trying for a guilty expression and failing miserably. 

“I’ll get you for that,” John promised with a grin.

“Can’t wait.” Sherlock’s kiss-swollen lips formed a wicked smile before they claimed John’s again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you’d like to read about how the boys met and became friends, read or follow my punkrock band Johnlock AU ["Dissonance"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18358196/chapters/43466693)  
> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments!  
> 


End file.
